The Cost of Escape
by Jessica237
Summary: Calleigh-centric; EC angst. In the harsh light of day, it was all too clear to her what the cost of that momentary escape would be, and Calleigh couldn't believe she'd ever thought it might've been worth it. Post 7x13.


**Title: **The Cost of Escape**  
By:** Jessica**  
Pairing:** Angsty Eric/Calleigh.**  
Rating:** T**  
Timeline:** Post 7x13, And They're Offed. Contains spoilers.  
**Summary:** In the harsh light of day, it was all too clear to her what the cost of that momentary escape would be, and Calleigh couldn't believe she'd ever thought it might've been worth it.

**A/N (a.k.a., my "shipper disclaimer," lol):** Like many of the opinions I've already read, I _do_ believe that if Calleigh was interested in anything in this episode, it was the horse, not Terrance. Does any part of me believe or wish that this would happen? No way, but as far as fic is concerned, anything goes. This quickly came to my mind and was just begging to be written, and after all, who am I to resist the call of angst? Don't hate me. ;)

* * *

Twilight had all but faded into darkness as they reluctantly made it back to the stables, knowing it was time to call it a night. Calleigh had no idea how long they had actually been out there, but at this point, it felt as though no amount of time would be enough. The thrill of riding had brought back the few pleasant memories she had of her childhood, leaving her wistful and all the more unwilling to give it all up again.

It was an incomparable feeling. As they'd trotted around the track – Calleigh had forgotten how many times, exactly – she felt the adrenaline coursing through her veins and the wind whipping through her long blonde hair, giving her a sense of near invincibility. And that feeling gave her a high like none other, especially considering how much she utterly loathed the idea of defeat.

She'd taken the last run around the track a bit slowly, lagging behind Terrance and taking a moment to enjoy the final moments alone. As she finally arrived back at the stables, several moments behind Terrance, she caught his knowing smile and couldn't help but give one of her own as she approached him skillfully.

And her skills did not go unnoticed. "You know, I've never seen her take to anybody quite like that – it's like she's trusted you forever. You're a natural," Terrance complimented, watching as Calleigh gracefully brought her horse to a gentle stop beside him. She was a vision, perched atop that horse, and it had been difficult for Terrance to keep his eyes off of her as they rode. But now that they had stopped, there was very little reason for him to watch the track.

Calleigh couldn't quite ignore the way his eyes traveled appreciatively over her body, and while there was something about it that just…didn't feel quite right, she couldn't deny the fact that even she was not immune to flattery. Pushing her hair back from her face, she felt a coy smile lifting the corners of her lips. "I did tell you I grew up around horses," she drawled, her eyes sparkling. Reaching a hand out, she gently stroked the back of her horse's neck. "I could never get enough of this," she continued dreamily. "There's no escape quite like riding off into the distance, no destination in mind…"

With a chuckle, Terrance dismounted, reaching into his pocket for a treat for his own horse. "I never would've taken you for the impulsive type," he commented, offering a lopsided grin.

With a roll of her eyes, Calleigh gave a light shrug. "Let's just say I went through my own rebellious stage when I was growing up," she replied dismissively, carefully dismounting. The feeling of being back on the ground sent a shock of disappointment through her body; she already missed the freedom she'd felt only moments before. "There were times I wanted to just run away, you know? And who better to accompany me than my best friend?" She all but cooed the last part, seemingly unable to keep her hands off of the horse in front of her. The horse gave a quiet, pleased whinny, and Calleigh felt herself all but melt. She'd so missed this, and for the first time since coming to Miami several years ago, Calleigh actually felt the first pangs of homesickness strike her heart.

Terrance smiled, knowing exactly what Calleigh meant. "There's a certain freedom…" he trailed off, knowing he need not continue.

It was as if he'd read her mind. "Exactly," she murmured, giggling softly as her horse happily took the treat Calleigh offered, right from her hand.

They lapsed into a companionable silence as Calleigh helped him settle the horses in for the night, the occasional comment on Calleigh's natural ability falling from Terrance's lips. She couldn't deny that his compliments were nice, nor could she deny the effect they had upon her.

Realizing that there remained nothing else to be done, Calleigh gave a quiet sigh, gently scratching at the base of her horse's neck before breaking contact once and for all. She crossed to the small bench where she had placed her purse and her phone. "Thank you for this," Calleigh said genuinely, absently tossing her phone in her purse without even checking the display. "I'm glad I took you up on that offer of yours."

Terrance grinned, sidling up behind her once satisfied that the horses were okay for the night. If Calleigh was opposed to his sudden closeness, or even felt it at all, he couldn't tell. "You're welcome," he murmured, just barely resisting the urge to reach out to her. She was gorgeous and a lover of horses; how much more perfection could he ask for? He felt the connection; the question was whether or not she felt it too. "Maybe you'd like to do it again sometime?"

The prospect brought a bright smile to Calleigh's lips. "I'd like that," she replied, offering no thought to the easy reply. It simply fell from her lips as she placed her purse over her shoulder, turning with a smile to face Terrance.

He smiled. "She'd like that, too," he replied, tilting his head toward the horse.

Calleigh gave a quiet giggle, her eyes sparkling. "Well, in _that_ case," she continued, glancing quickly to the horses and then back to Terrance, "I suppose will have to make a day of it sometime." As her voice reached her own ears, Calleigh couldn't help but mentally chastise herself. Her tone had sounded much too flirtatious, especially since she had spent years learning not to get attached to people who were in some way connected to her cases.

_Ah, but instead, you let yourself grow connected to the one person who is connected to every single one of your cases._

Discreetly she shook her head, shaking away the errant, yet true, thought. This had nothing to do with Eric, and she refused to let his indecision over what he wanted ruin the rest of her evening.

Truth be told, Calleigh had wanted him to do anything except remain silent when she'd asked what he wanted. His silence had only affirmed the lingering fear, the doubt that had been placed within her by the rest of the men she'd ever found herself attracted to. It was no surprise that Calleigh needed Eric to say the words, after all the confusion that she'd lived through with other men. But when his silence instead had reigned, she couldn't help but believe she'd been right all along.

His friendship meant a lot to her, but that was it.

He was thankful for all the help she'd given him during his recovery, but that was it.

He cared about her, certainly. But Calleigh had accused him of not believing there was anything _more_ between them, and it seemed he had figured that fact out for himself. She'd expected him to come to her; after all, _she'd_ believed that his feelings were more than friendship.

But apparently, Eric hadn't.

And that had _hurt_. After her unanswered ultimatum, just being around him had become painful. It was cowardly, yes, but what else could Calleigh do but avoid him? If he didn't feel that way, she had made a huge fool of herself, never mind the fact that she'd gotten her heart broken again.

Forcing those thoughts away, Calleigh gave a smile, meeting Terrance's eyes. "I should probably get going," she suggested, gesturing toward the doorway.

Her feet, however, remained rooted to the spot. She shifted just slightly, biting at her lip as Terrance stepped closer to her, his fingers twitching as though he wanted to reach out to her. "Why don't you let me buy you a drink?" he murmured, allowing his eyes to once more rake discreetly over her body.

But not discreetly enough. Calleigh could feel his gaze traveling over her, and while she couldn't deny the chill that raced along her spine, there was something that just felt…off about it. It felt nice, but strange all at the same time. Shrugging it off, Calleigh glanced at her watch, noting the time. "I don't know, Terrance," she said quietly, tilting her head as she looked back to him. "I do have to work tomorrow…"

Terrance gave a disarming grin, slightly similar to, yet so, so unlike the one that always made her heart flop in her chest. And suddenly, Calleigh realized exactly what the difference was. It was a difference, however, that she refused to acknowledge with words in her mind, but it wasn't something her heart could just deny. Luckily, Terrance spoke again, stopping her from lingering on that monumental difference. "Well, lucky for you, tomorrow isn't tonight," he pointed out playfully, taking a step closer to her. He grinned, knowing he was working at Calleigh's resolve. "You can tell me more about you…I'd love to hear about the horses you grew up with."

Calleigh bit at the inside of her cheek, fighting a smile at the memories. "Well…"

The thrill of racing around the track had yet to wear off, leaving her feeling giddy; excited. Calleigh was absolutely bubbly, and before she could even think of the consequences, she found herself accepting his offer once more. It was dangerous, taking that kind of adrenaline high and mixing it with the effects of a drink or two. It wasn't long before Calleigh felt her head buzzing, and while she knew then that she should call it a night, something kept her from doing just that.

Her mind was numbed, unable to protest what her heart never stopped crying out against.

Her heart told her implicitly that this was a mistake, perhaps one of the greatest she would ever make.

But her mind persisted with the seeming truth that she had seen with her own eyes – Eric didn't want her after all.

_But Terrance seemed to._

And when he offered to take her home, even going so far as to walk her to her door, Calleigh didn't resist. Even after they'd said their goodnights, Calleigh made no move to go inside, nor did he make any attempt to leave.

And when he kissed her, she didn't resist.

When she felt his body press against hers, pinning her to the door she had closed behind them, she didn't resist.

When his fingers coaxed free the buttons of her blouse, skimming uninhibitedly over the soft skin beneath, she didn't resist.

And when his body covered hers, pressing her into the softness of the bed, Calleigh still didn't resist.

It was an escape; a temporary getaway from the truths and lies that mingled within her heart, within the darkest parts of her mind. It was an escape from the painful realizations that colored her relationship with Eric.

But in reality, there was no escaping that at all.

In her mind, in her heart, it was Eric's lips that mingled with hers, kissing her deeply, dizzying her into an oxygen-deprived, sensual daze. It was Eric's body covering hers; Eric's hands brushing over her flushed skin, driving her to the brink of oblivion. It was Eric's arms that held her, his strong, muscled arms that wrapped around her trembling body; his kisses and touches and softly spoken words coaxing little whimpers and sighs of delight from her lips.

And as she felt her body being pushed closer and closer to that ledge, the vision grew ever stronger, more clear. Terrance all but disappeared as far as she was concerned; his face became Eric's face; his eyes, Eric's eyes. Calleigh couldn't help but lose herself in that fantasy, that deepest desire she'd kept hidden so very well. It was Eric that she wanted; it was Eric that she saw.

She moaned softly, her nails digging into Terrance's shoulders. Her body trembled as she tumbled over the edge, knowing he was not far behind. But the name that fell from her lips in an almost inaudible, shaky whisper was not that of Terrance, the man whose lips currently assaulted her collarbone with rough kisses.

Instead, it was the name of the man she'd purposely been avoiding everywhere except in her fantasies, in her heart and soul.

"Eric…"

_--_

Calleigh was exhausted as she made her way into work the next morning, finding herself needing to allow more thought to processes that she'd been accomplishing absentmindedly for years now. She'd almost forgotten to sign in, only remembering as she granted a sideways glance to the board and noticed the 'off duty' label still adorning her name.

Her sleep had been fitful and full of broken dreams as the guilt of her actions had ensnared her conscience. She'd already felt guilty for avoiding Eric; now this…this went so far beyond avoidance. She had awoken alone, with nothing more than a note atop the pillow on the other side of the bed; a note that she could not force herself to open.

She'd spent as long as possible in the shower, but not even three quarters of an hour under the assault of scalding water could wash away the guilt that was slowly eating her alive.

She was disgusted with herself. She'd allowed an offer of horseback riding and the promise of a drink or two, combined with her growing need for an escape to coax her into letting her guard down, just for one night. And for one night of escape, she was certainly paying dearly now.

And as if the killer headache, the consuming pain of guilt, and the memory of a moment of weakness that she had obviously given _no_ thought to weren't punishment enough, Calleigh felt her heart plummet as she stepped into her lab, her eyes immediately landing on the small box on the table.

Quickly she recognized the shiny, silver wrapping, and immediately she knew exactly what she would find inside. But for once, the telltale package did not excite her; it only worsened the deep guilt and heartache she had brought upon herself. Perched precariously atop the small box was a small card, and Calleigh felt a mixture of nausea and flitting butterflies fill her stomach. Anticipation and dread. Desire and deepest shame.

There was only one person the box could possibly be from – there was only one person who knew of her love for those truffles. And, she realized with another jolt of guilt, there existed only one person who would go to the trouble of procuring them for her.

_Eric._

Her hands shook uncontrollably as Calleigh slowly opened the small card, immediately recognizing the neat script on the inside. And instead of bringing a smile to her lips, the sight of his handwriting froze her heart within a cold block of icy guilt. And as she read, that block of ice melted into thousands of guilt-filled, burning teardrops that stung her eyes, blurring her vision as she took in the words that only worsened what she felt inside.

_Calleigh –_

_I know things between you and me haven't been as smooth as we might've liked lately, and I know a good portion of that is my fault. And for that, I'm sorry. Sorrier than you could probably imagine. I feel like I've said or done something to you, something to hurt you, something to scare you, I don't know. I just feel like things have changed, and I want nothing more than to put that behind us, and maybe, just maybe, move forward from that._

_You mean so much to me – more than I could ever put into words. I meant what I told you last week – your friendship is important to me, which is why it kills me that I feel I've hurt you. I miss you; I miss what we used to have, and it scares me because if that's all you can offer me, I don't know if I can go back to that. _

_I know it's a bit of a heavy confession for a card, but (and don't take this the wrong way, okay?) I figure if there is anybody who can understand how hard it can be to say something like this in person, it's you. You wanted me to say it, and I'm sorry I couldn't do that then._

_You gave me a lot to think about, and maybe you're right. Sometimes I don't have a clue what I want, but the more that I think about this and try to figure it out, the more I'm sure about this. It just gets clearer and clearer, and it's the only thing that I know for sure that I want._

_I'm not sure that made any sense at all, so maybe I should just go for it, right?_

_I want to give this a shot. You and me. I want you. I want to be with you. I'm falling for you, harder than I've ever fallen before. _

_Maybe one day I'll find the courage to say all of this to your beautiful face, but for now…this is all I know how to do. _

_In the mean time, enjoy your truffles, beautiful. And know that you deserve all the happiness in the world._

_Eric_

A single tear fell from her cheek, hitting the paper and smudging the careful script. Through blurred eyes, Calleigh watched as the single word disappeared, _beautiful_ twisting and disfiguring into nothing more than a wet splotch of dark ink.

And that was the moment it truly hit her. She'd been so caught up in making sure that Eric knew what he wanted, so involved in making sure that he wouldn't turn out to be Jake or John or Peter, so _terrified_ of getting her own heart broken yet again. She'd convinced herself that Eric really _didn't_ want to be with her.

When, in fact, it was the one thing he wanted above all else. He just didn't know how to say it.

Tightly closing her eyes, Calleigh bit hard enough at her lip to draw blood, but even the physical pain wasn't enough to take away the aching in her heart, the guilt that consumed her. She felt empty, broken, and completely unworthy of his love, let alone his forgiveness. "I'm so sorry, Eric," she murmured, her voice thick with unshed tears.

_What have I done?_

Since that fateful day in front of the elevator, avoidance had been Calleigh's technique of choice. It was why she hadn't joined the rest of the team at Brennan's, even though she'd desperately wanted to see Eric. It was just to hard to see him, and to not be with him; to see him, and believe that he'd decided he wanted to merely be friends. So she'd stuck with avoiding him, hoping it would grant her a reprieve from the much too strong emotions that filled her. An escape from the ache, from the emptiness in her heart had been what she'd desired.

But as Calleigh slowly allowed her tired body to sink to the floor, out of sight behind the table in her lab, she buried her face in her hands. Her cheeks were moist beneath her palms, stinging with the ache of slowly drying tears. Possessing not the energy to stop it, Calleigh found herself unable to do much more than give into the quiet sobs that wracked her tiny frame. She felt exhausted, defeated, and so, so alone.

How could she have _ever_ let herself doubt Eric?

She'd known from the beginning how he felt about her, and yet, she'd insisted on making him say the words. And instead of putting doubt into his mind with her confused ultimatum, she'd planted the seed of doubt in her own head. And it had suffocated her, leaving her desperate for an escape, any escape. An escape that had been all but handed to her by a man with a pretty horse.

And now, in the harsh light of day, it was all too clear to her what the cost of that momentary escape would be, and Calleigh couldn't believe she'd ever thought it might've been worth it. The price she had to pay was that of all-consuming guilt and sheer heartache, but the worst of all was the knowledge of the utter heartbreak that her moment of weakness would cause to Eric, the one person she cared for the most, the one person that she had ever been able to say – not out loud, of course – that she might have been falling in love with. Who she was _most definitely_ falling in love with.

The words of his heartfelt note echoed in her mind, his closing words like a knife to her fragile heart. However much Eric might believe them, they were as far as possible from the truth, and the bitter realization brought the fresh sting of tears back to her eyes as her body fell victim once more to quiet, agonizing sobs.

She didn't deserve the truffles.

And she sure didn't deserve all the happiness in the world.


End file.
